


Enhanced self-gratification

by melitta4ever



Series: Kinktober 2018 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Masturbation, Rimming, Spanking, ass worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 20:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16166867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melitta4ever/pseuds/melitta4ever
Summary: The bunker is full of mysterious artifacts. One should think twice before touching them.For Kinktober 2018, Day 2: ass-worship.





	Enhanced self-gratification

“How the hell did you manage to do this?” Sam asked, placing Dean's upper body on an antique wheelchair he had found somewhere in the depths of the bunker.

“It wasn't intentional if that was your question,” Dean answered; trying to preserve the last shreds of his dignity. “Also, there wasn't any warning signs or anything.” He gestured at the plain, rectangular window frame innocuously sitting on a pedestal in the middle of the room.

“And you obviously decided to poke your nose through it.”

Dean didn't respond this time, he was busy examining his lower body that had stuck to the said window frame.

“Do you at least know how half your body passed through?” Sam asked, cautiously checking the sides of the wooden frame. “I don't see any buttons or writings on it.”

“I do have nice ass,” said Dean, grinning to himself. He had heard the compliment hundreds of times. He had, of course, checked himself at mirrors too. But looking directly at his own ass bending over that window… this was a completely different experience.

“Seriously, Dean!” Sam sighed, as if he wasn't enjoying himself, the little shit. Like Dean could ever forget his hysterical girly giggles —after the initial panic of seeing Dean in two pieces had passed, of course.

“You think I'd skip an info like that.” He pushed the wheelchair closer to his lower half. “What could be the fucking reason behind such a— Device? Curse?”

“Who knows.” Sam shrugged. “I wish there was a name at least. I don't think searching for a window-ish human divider in archives would give any results.”

 

It didn't.

Dean's arms were pitifully sore the next day; using a wheelchair in a not-really-accessible bunker wasn't fun at all. The worst part so far though was the fasting. Dean had had a very bad experience with peeing in a cup. He certainly didn't wanna suffer through the humiliation of the number two. So, no solids until he could separate his lower body from that damn window.

He had placed an ottoman under his knees to rest his feet last night. But this morning, his knees were killing him, so he moved the ottoman away. He would kill for a massage— _of course!_

He took off the jeans; they had started to chafe him anyway. When he rubbed his calf he couldn't stop the moan raising from his mouth.

“Oh, fuck! I really know what I'm doing.” He pushed his fingers in, kneading the tired muscles. Slow and steady, just the way he liked. Just the way Cindy, masseuse extraordinaire, had introduced him to finer aspects of sensual touch some fifteen years ago.

He could see as well as feel his growing erection, and it _did_ look bigger from this perspective. _Heh_!

When his hands reached to his butt cheeks, his legs were already shaking with overstimulation and Dean had to place them on either side of the wheelchair, on the armrests.

The scene in front of his eyes was unique and enticing and fucking beautiful too. And Dean was neither going to lie himself about what he wanted to try, nor going to deny himself a once-in-a-lifetime treat like this. There was a small chance that Sam might come in the room with a solution to this problem, but Dean could always claim he was dropping a duce behind the locked door.

He first tried with his fingers; gently pushing in the near perfect globes. _God! He_ **_was_ ** _beautiful._ Seriously, now he could really understand his partners’ obsession with his ass. He had the most plump, edible looking, spank worthy tushy ever.

He, then, placed his lips to where his butt met with his legs and took a tentative lick. His whole body shivered; both upper and bottom parts. He knew how much he enjoyed gentle nipps there; so he went ahead and did that.

“Holy fucking ass!”

He repeated the same treatment to the other butt cheek, making his precariously balanced lower body shake over the armrests.

He patted the fleshy globes, hands moving over the peach fuzz hair and causing goosebumps on his skin, all the way to his neck. He slapped himself, hard enough that the sound echoed on the bare walls. Anticipating the hit wasn't great perhaps; but watching his flesh ripple under his hand was priceless. And Dean repeated again, and again and again… he continued, until he just couldn't. Until his hands hurt and until both cheeks turned to glow-in-the-dark pink.

“Fuck, I look so damn fuckable.” He caressed the smarting buttocks, enjoying the hypersensitivity the recent spanking had brought. He licked the hot-to-touch skin. Then, blew on the wetness to make himself whine.

Taking a non-too-gentle bite was unavoidable at that point; the ass across him, his ass, was way too enticing to resist. He sank his teeth into the already stinging flesh, filling his mouth with the delicious plumpness while making himself gurgle with pain-pleasure.

When he had left his teeth marks all over his butt, he decided it was time to delve in, heeding his impatient cock's complaints. Poor thing was pressed on the cold surface of the pedestal, and begging for a release. Not that Dean would finish it early when there most probably wouldn't be another chance to experience this again.

He grasped his butt cheeks and separated them, exposing his furled rosebud. He licked over the soft skin, groaning at the same time at the cool touch of his wet tongue over the sensitive nerve endings. Dean had done this plenty of times to other asses, definitely a lot more than he had been on the receiving side. He knew how to eat ass. He knew how he loved to get his ass eaten. This was going to be legendary.

After licking and kissing and nuzzling it to his heart’s content, Dean really dug into it. He stiffened his tongue and pushed inside the spit slick hole, tasting satiny insides of his own asshole while whining at the sensation. When he closed his mouth over and started to suck, his eyes rolled in his sockets; the pleasure almost causing him to spill his seed early on the marble surface.

His second-day beard was scratching the delicate parts of his ass, increasing the skin's sensitivity and making Dean cry with pleasure. His hole was no longer tight and stiff, opening for Dean's tongue easily, welcoming the strong muscle into its depths. He pushed in a finger easily, finding his prostate. He bit on his ass to muffle a scream at the sensation, definitely leaving a long lasting mark there. His other hand moved toward his neglected dick, taking the familiar weight in his hand. One finger pressing into his pleasure button, one hand stroking his dick to completion, he took the rim of his asshole between his teeth. He tugged gently, grinding his teeth over the thin skin, full of nerves, and came cascading over the pedestal, panting against his throbbing ass.

 

Mopping up his jizz and dressing himself after such spectacular orgasm wasn't easy. But it was a must. And when Sam barged into the room with a folder at hand, Dean was really happy that he hadn't postponed the cleaning.

“Did you—” Sam asked, eyebrows knitted, smelling the room freshener Dean had liberally sprayed.

“Would you prefer the room smell like a crapper?” Dean asked, nonchalant enough to make Sam wrinkling his button nose.

“I found a solution.” His brother changed the subject easily.

“I knew you would, Sammy.” Dean smiled; his little, very geek brother came to his rescue as usual. “Just on time too, I'm starving.”

“It has nothing to the with the window... frame... whatever.”

That didn't sound promising.

“It's the pedestal, Dean.” Sam added grinning, “It got activated when you touched it.”

“I didn't—” Dean started, but Sam, of course, had an answer for everything.

“When you try to look through the frame on top of it, your belly must have contacted it. Then, snap!”

“So, what the hell is the frame for?”

“As far as I know, it's just spare parts.”

He, then, bent down and pressed onto something on the pedestal's foot.

“Yep, I reversed the process. Come, we need to put you back on the pedestal,” he said, laughing at his own pun.

  


Dean had missed having his legs under him. Walking around, back to his own height was almost as good as the burger he was eating right now.

“Did you figure out why the hell Men of Letter had that damn thing?” Dean asked, licking the salt of the fries off of his fingers.

“It’s to decapacitate the monsters without killing or maiming them. So that they can do research on the active and alive body.”

“That's sick, man!”

“Or they just wrote that down to hide the fact that they use it for enhanced masturbation,” Sam said, snickering.

“You—” Dean couldn't finish his sentence because Sam was cracking up on his chair.

“I'm sure they did hear your cries from the next town over, Dean. Of course, I know.”

 


End file.
